Perpetual Unrest: Alternate Season Four
by Jenthewarrior
Summary: When she finds that Klaus was never killed, Elena makes the dangerous decision to team up with Katherine. Together they search for the world's first werewolf, hoping to unlock the secrets behind the hybrid's indestructible existence. The Salvatores pursue them, but they are separated, Stefan captured by Klaus and his sadistic brother, Kol, and Damon taunted by his mother's ghost.
1. Episode One: Becoming

**To begin, my disclaimer: I certainly don't own the Vampire Diaries, nor am I responsible for the genius of its conception, writing, or execution. I pluck the respective characters from their incredible world and toy with them for my own amusement (evil face). I absolutely refuse to write out-of-character. They were made perfectly and embodied perfectly by their respective actors/actresses, and they'll stay that way. If you ever think something I write is beyond the logical extension of character development, just shoot me a message.**

**And now **_**(trumpets sounding) **_**I introduce to you my version of the fourth season of the Vampire Diaries. This is the alternate version, incorporating some of the main storylines and themes while changing the outcome of the last episode of season three. Also, be warned, this is NOT a fluffy, cuddly, smutty story. This is the Vampire Diaries, and it will be full of blood, death, and violence, though I will occasionally throw in some romance. Be warned: I believe in Delena. That doesn't mean I'm going to throw Stefan to the wolves, though.**

**Without FURTHER ado (ado… what kinda word is that, anyway? Or did I spell it wrong?), I present the description for the very first episode of my alternate season four:**

**XxX**

_**Episode One: Becoming: **_Elena went to Damon's side that night, never sparking the chain of events that ended her life. Klaus lives on in the body of his first hybrid, tormenting Bonnie in an effort to return to his previous state. Stefan and Damon are haunted by a spirit with a familiar face, someone who died before they dreamt of blood. In the midst of the chaos, Elena makes the deadly decision to team up with Katherine, hoping to protect everyone she loves by stripping Klaus of his destructive power. To do this, they must delve deep into the origins of the world's oldest species: the werewolves.

**XxX**

**PS. Please, please, please, please review. Yeah, I'm that pathetic. It makes me scream like I just saw Somerhalder whenever I see I have a new review.**** You have no **_**idea**_** how motivating it is!**

**PS. S. If you're reading this far down, I think you're awesome. I just smiled at you. Ignore that if it was creepy. I've been awake too long. I think Damon secretly **_**likes**_** Taylor Swift.**


	2. Tightrope

The world seemed quieter that night, hushed as some of its oldest inhabitants found themselves in the scope of the Hunter. The stars were dimmer, the air unbearably still and heavy; it weighed on Elena Gilbert without mercy. Blackness had swallowed the daylight, and though she'd been asleep for hours – albeit sleep induced by powerful sedatives – she felt that she'd never been more exhausted in her life. Every movement made her feel nauseous, every thought like an icepick through her skull, triggering worry and confusion that seemed eternal. Why had her best friend conspired to kidnap her? Why did it feel like her life was on the verge of breaking to pieces? Why wouldn't someone tell her what was going to happen?

It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Klaus was dead, his reign of terror ended by the commandeered body of one of Elena's closest friends. Thousands of vampires and all of the hybrids were less than an hour from death; the Salvatore brothers were going to die. Nothing mattered because she didn't expect to survive their loss.

These things rolled non-stop through her mind as Matt drove further and further from home, pushing his old blue Chevrolet to at least twice the speed limit. She saw how pained his eyes were; she followed each silver tear down his cheek and into his lap. She suspected that he no longer cared where they were going, or in how many pieces they got there.

"Matt…" she whispered, reaching toward him. When her trembling hand touched his arm, he flinched, making her heart jump into her throat.

He looked at her uneasily, his eyes reflecting the darkness that had settled over their lives. She was sure he saw the same thing when he looked at her. The two of them were the not-so-innocent bystanders who watched their loved ones die from a distance, losing so much that it became numbing, and yet, they felt the guilt more powerfully than anymore. They were two sides of the same coin, thrown together by the universe because it desired nothing short of total chaos.

When he said nothing, only stared at her in a way that made her want to abandon ship, she whispered, "We have to go back." She laid her hand on his arm again, her eyebrows pulling together. She was worried about her friends, sad for the way this evening had gone downhill, and angry that she could do nothing but wait and see if two people who meant the world to her were going to die. She knew that she could still go back, and that's what kept her determined. She could go back and be with them – _all_ of them – one last time. They could all sit together and hope life wasn't _that_ cruel; it couldn't be _that_ horrible. The only thing left to do was convince Matt, but it would be hard, because he was less fond of those at risk, and _very_ fond of her.

"Listen to me, Matt," she said, "If Klaus is the one that turned their bloodline, then they'll all gonna die."

Her words brought indecision to his eyes. She knew where it came from. He'd kidnapped her to spare her from the demons at her door; he'd only wanted to keep her safe, and now she was asking him to drive back into the heart of darkness. She was asking him to give up his plan, and this is what made him a failure. His hopes crashed and burned. The vigor with which he'd described his reasons was evaporating. The night had taken a turn for the worst, and, regardless of the fate of the Salvatores, his best friend was going to die.

His eyes were only asking a question she'd seen echoed in Damon's eyes, and Stefan's eyes: _How can you ask me to do this, Elena? How could you put me through this?_

She squeezed his arm, as if that would ease his pain. "We have to go back, Matt," she mumbled, shaking her head. Her eyes were watering.

Matt stared at her. Several times he opened his mouth only to shut it. Deterred, he focused on the road, carefully pulling to the side with his foot on the brake. He stared at the gearshift, running his fingers along it before setting the truck in park. They rolled forward an inch. The headlights were extinguished. He turned to her, his eyes barely lit by the reflection of the moon, and said,

"Elena… Damon's not with them."

Ice dropped into Elena's body. The fire in her eyes, in her spirit, faded. Her hand dropped from his arm, hitting the leather with a solid thud, but she wasn't distracted by it. Her eyes were locked on him, her thoughts clouded by possibilities, the good and the bad. Inevitably, the darkness of the night played a part in her internal scenario, and it brought tears to her eyes.

Was Damon Salvatore _dead_? Was he lying in a ditch somewhere? Had one of the Originals taken him? Had he left of his own accord? Was he out trying to find her? Was he in danger because of _her_? The thoughts began to have a physical effect on Elena; her expression slowly changed to something far younger. She appeared more innocent, taken off-guard by a sudden shift in the weather. Her lips parted, but the questions in her mind were indistinguishable from the confusion, the doubt, and the worry.

One word slipped out. Her voice was shaking uncontrollably. "What?"

Matt's eyes were like glass in such low light, his brow pinching toward the center. "He's a hundred miles out of town. I can keep driving to him… or I can turn around and go back to Stefan. It's your choice."

_It's my choice_, Elena repeated in her mind, picturing those words coming from Damon's mouth, and from the disapproving eyes of her family and friends. As she walked the tightrope between loving two people in two very different ways, they prodded her with sticks, trying to get her to fall either way. The problem was, Elena couldn't see the safety net; she knew that if she just kept balancing, she would never have to fall down.

Reeling from his words, Elena took the cellphone from Matt's jacket pocket and stared at the glowing keys. She decided to call Damon; she'd let his words decide for her. His number came to mind easily; in times of fear or uncertainty, she always seemed to be dialing it. It was the two long rings that were hard for her, because when she thought of him ignoring it, or missing it for any reason, it made her want to scream.

Thankfully, Captain Sarcasm picked up on the third ring.

"Let me guess, calling to see if the Grim Reaper's paid a visit?"

She let out the breath she'd been holding, but gathered another to interrogate her friend. "How are you feeling? Are there any symptoms?"

In her mind's eye, she imagined Damon propped against a brick wall, bourbon in one hand, cell phone in the other, dead person on the ground at his feet. And then she pictured him coughing up blood, writhing in agony as the life drained from his body. She imagined those beautiful blue eyes turning gray; that thick black hair falling piece-by-piece from his head.

"Not yet," Damon responded, jerking her from her nightmarish thoughts, "But I'm sure we'll have a laugh when we find out that Klaus is a big fat liar."

Elena breathed softly, leaning her forehead against the window to feel the cold of the outside world. It was relieving to hear him revert to his old self, the Damon that didn't fear death. His outlook was 'to die and let live,' because in his mind, people died. Bad things happened. Evil sometimes won the war. Good, righteous people were corrupted by greed and lust. He was staring straight into the Grim Reaper's shadowed hood, but Damon still feared nothing. He was the man she'd become friends with; the man she'd always wondered whether she should love or hate. He had an untamed personality, both human and vampiric in nature, and his words were completely true to that. It made Matt's dark truck less terrifying, and the atmosphere less heavy.

It allowed her a few words that didn't tremble as they left her mouth, and for that, she would always be grateful.

"Yeah… I'm… I'm sure we will."

Elena let a deep breath pass through her. Damon didn't respond to her words, giving her another moment to contemplate what was happening. Matt's words hung over her, waiting for her to choose one or the other, a single Salvatore to spend the rest of her life with. But it wasn't meant to happen this way. She didn't want to choose between them. She didn't want to lose one of her closest friends… she didn't want that part of her life to wither away. Was her last act meant to break one of their hearts? Was that how she wanted this story to end?

The older Salvatore again rescued her from her own thoughts, though this question didn't help her decision. It was a vulnerable question; it was a way of speaking only Damon Salvatore had mastered.

"Hey, where are you?"

It was innocent enough. Where was she? She could've said anything at that moment, because Damon didn't actually _know_ where she was. She could say she's still at home, waiting for him to come back… waiting with Stefan. She could say she's halfway to Minnesota with Matt, and that she needed someone to rescue her. She could say she was halfway between him and his brother, and that she'd be turning around and heading back, because it would _always_ be Stefan.

And what if it was? What if it was _always_ Stefan? What if the love they had was meant to last forever? What if they were soul mates? Didn't she owe Damon the visit, if she was going to choose his brother anyway? Yes. That made sense. Stefan was at home with their friends, and if the end came for him, he'd be surrounded by people that cared for him. Damon was somewhere out of town, definitely alone, and _never_ surrounded by people that cared for him. It was simple logic. He'd been by her side when she needed him, and as his friend, she was obligated to go to his aid, wherever he may be.

Besides, she loved them _both_. In separate situations, in radically different worlds, they were each perfect for her in their own way. She wasn't ready to make the choice of all choices, to decide which one had a stronger grip on her heart. They were two brothers full of darkness and hatred, but they could both be affectionate, devoted, and passionate. She could lose neither of them, and, for now, she could only be there for one of them.

Stefan would understand. He was so compassionate, so empathetic. He would welcome her with open arms no matter what happened that night. His devotion would never be hindered by something as simple as this.

So she answered Damon with that decision, hoping he wouldn't read into her words, hoping everyone wouldn't decide she'd finally chosen between them. She hoped Damon would understand that this was repayment for the times he'd been by her side, not a declaration of love for him.

"I'm with Matt," she began. "We're on our way there."

There was a slight pause, and then, "How far are you?"

"Twenty minutes."

The silence of the other line lasted a lifetime. While she sat there, she pictured Stefan pacing her living room, a pensive look on his handsome face. She thought about Caroline; a knot formed in her stomach at the thought of her friend watching Tyler die. She longed to be with Jeremy, to wrap her arms around him and promise him that everything was going to be okay.

Her thoughts became too powerful, so she broke the still air. "See you soon, okay, Damon? I don't want Matt's phone to die." She hoped the vampire wouldn't hear her voice tremble. She was already thinking of taking her words back, of telling him that she'd be heading home after all; she thought about Stefan's delight at her return, the way he'd wrap his arms around her and kiss her cheek.

Damon didn't hesitate in responding. His words made the decision for her, and whether he'd intended it or not, the depth of his concern made her worry fade away.

"For the love of _God_, Elena, be careful. Ranger Rick is pissed and I'm his new favorite toy. If you get hurt…" His voice softened immensely. The changes in him over the last few months bubbled to the surface, dusting the chains that bound them to each other. "I can't lose you, Elena. _Please_ be careful."

Elena drew both hands to the phone, wishing she could be there to comfort him. "I won't take any risks," she promised him quietly. "You're not gonna lose me."

There was nothing else to say, so Elena hung up. She surrendered the phone to Matt, a storm of doubt looming above her – what had she done? Why had she even reasoned with herself? Why had she chosen the Salvatore who would _never_ have a safety net? What would she do when she saw him? Would he know the importance of her decision?

Elena had a terrible thought. She saw the back of Stefan's jacket fading rapidly in the distance as he left Mystic Falls, and her life, forever. A pit of grief opened up in her stomach, so familiar that it was sickening. Even thoughts of finding Damon safe and sound, thoughts of going back to her brother and putting this whole mess behind her, couldn't erase the blackness of losing Stefan Salvatore. There was no life after that kind of love.

And then, as always, her thoughts found an even darker path. She thought of both of them dying, of watching their lives melt away. She thought of funerals, black clothing, and the empty, pointless days that would follow. She thought of faking smiles all over again, crying until the tears ran out, until the headaches never stopped, until life and death were indistinguishable from one another.

Matt touched her shoulder softly, drawing her from self-induced tears, and from the way he looked at her in that moment, she was glad he'd cared enough to kidnap her.

"Elena… I'm so sorry I brought you out here…" He reached up and wiped away a tear, shaking his head. "And… you know Damon and me don't see eye-to-eye… he's been a dick lately... well, always…" – They both smiled slightly at that – "but he's good sometimes, and he helps us. He's not… the popular choice, but… for what it's worth, I think he loves you… I think you made the right choice."


	3. Invitation

Damon Salvatore awakened vengefully from death. He tried to fill his mind with anger, but the desiccated vampire could only feel a tremendous amount of physical pain, the kind of pain that drove men into madness. The scraping feeling of his undead heart trying to beat was incomparable to anything humans could experience; the squeezing and settling of his dry veins licked his nerves like flame. It was like swallowing hot coals and lying completely still as they ate through his organs, finding their way to the ground where they would continue to roast his skin. He had so little blood that he couldn't blink his dry eyes; he couldn't move his tongue and wet his crackling lips; he couldn't twitch his tingling toes.

The only thing that kept him in reality was a thin memory that settled over his waking moments like a layer of dust. He saw Alaric's face, young, strong, and healthy once more, full of life as he laughed and smiled. Elena was there, and so was Jeremy, and her aunt Jenna; they were having a house party. Every now and then, Elena's round brown eyes, which captured his consciousness, found his, and he discovered love again.

His thoughts, however, were fleeting, and they soon faded from his mind. He went on to stare at the vacant sky, listening to the great nothingness all around him. He thought he heard footsteps once or twice; he was sure it was Elena, coming to save him, her sweet voice floating on the wind, but within a moment he was proven wrong.

The voice shifted into a happy giggle, which exploded from every direction, startling Damon and making his heart pump air furiously into his useless body. He saw nothing, but he felt fingertips grazing his arms, eliminating the pain in his nerves for a few incredible moments. He lay in forced stillness, terrified because he couldn't be sarcastic, straining every sense until his mind was as pained as his body. The ghost took no notice of him, or plenty. Warmth surrounded him, engulfing him like an ocean wave. A warm, strictly southern scent wafted into Damon's nostrils; soft fabrics touched his face. Alien longing filled his chest, a longing much stronger than his vampiric urges for blood. It stirred memories that he'd lost more than a century ago.

He was there again. The storage facility vanished, replaced by the comfort of his old home. The pain became nothing; now there was the sensation of wet trousers hanging around his ankles, the sun painting his cheeks dark red, the wind ruffling his curly hair. Everything was unusually bright, but colored vividly. It was irresistibly warm and safe. From behind the trees, a woman with long blonde hair and eyes like the clear blue sky danced across the yard, pausing to smile at him. He felt himself rise, his heart thumping, his blood racing, more alive than he'd felt even bearing a gun in battle; he was running through the creek to meet her on the shore, leaping into her arms and resting his head against her strong heart. He breathed in the scent of honeysuckles and wild clovers; he let her laughter carry him away.

Suddenly, the dream ended. Damon was shaken back into the cold world, where that same woman, though darker and older than he remembered, was hovering over him. Her smile was the same, but it haunted him. Had he died? Had Alaric shoved a stake through his heart? Was his mother here to carry him off into the next world?

Fever-hot fingertips touched his arm, calming him. The pain of desiccation faded in oblivion. His heartbeat strengthened, pumping the ghostly remnant of blood. "Rest, my son. Help is on the way." Her voice was perhaps the most horrible thing he had to endure. It was so _familiar_, so overwhelming. "You must live, my sweet, so you can do what you're meant to do."

He began drifting, losing the consciousness she'd given him. The predatory side of him felt Elena approaching, her heart beating like a hummingbird's as she collapsed at his side, but the human half mourned the fading of his mother, the way her presence melted away. The warmth faded and his heart stopped, but the pain was no more. He knew that he was dead again, dying for the third time that night, but under Elena's urgent hands, it felt safer to let go.

He didn't think about his mother's words, almost as if she hadn't allowed him. He didn't wonder what could be so important, or so horribly _wrong_, that someone dead for over a century would make an appearance.

He was suddenly only occupied by the strong beating of his living, human savior's heart; the beating that made the proximity of her blood a nonissue.

XxX

The year was 1854. It was a time when Damon Salvatore was only fourteen, and his baby brother was only seven – still a baby by his count. They were each other's favorite people again, and Damon was far from worrying about bloodlust, or his father's disapproval. What did it matter, anyway? Everything was alive. The world smelled of honeysuckles and river water; he was often times consumed by trivial things, such as going for a swim or teaching his little brother how to catch turtles. He could stroll through town and, with Stefan hanging onto his every word, poke fun at the women's stuffy dresses, and the men's fancy trousers. He could lust after the sweets in the bakery, and snatch one when no one was looking, using his doe-eyed brother as a diversion. He could go down to the tailor and help him out in exchange for neat things that glowed in the dark, or sparkled in the sun.

To him, it was still the New World. It was unexplored and untamed, filled with things he knew he would never understand. Since he was dreaming, he knew that one day he'd have to fight for the Confederacy, and that he'd gain his father's hate because of his love for freedom. He knew that the little boy holding his hand and learning from him would become his rival, and he would eventually betray him. He knew of the devious heart-breaker, Katherine Pierce, and how much she loved to play games.

He knew all of this, and he was in complete control of his dreams – one of his favorite vampire tricks – but he did nothing to change his fate. He took hold of Stefan's hand and dragged him back to the house for supper, reliving as much of his life as he could before it all went down the crapper.

He was actually _upset_ when he heard Elena's voice.

"Damon? Are you awake?"

He cracked one eye, seriously debating whether he'd just roll over and ignore her. The dream shattered as he realized what it had all come down to: the girl standing in front of him. She appeared tired, more so than usual, but she was otherwise strong and healthy, as beautiful as the sun rising each morning. A week had passed since she'd scraped him off of the floor of the storage facility, but this was his first time seeing her, as he'd usually remembered to lock his door. He hadn't been in the mood to argue, not since his strange blast from the past.

Elena knew nothing about his dead mother haunting him, but, judging by the look on her face, she knew there was something wrong. He hated that look. It was her stubborn look, the one that made him want to flee because he knew whatever she was going to say would lead to an argument.

And he _really_ wasn't in the mood to argue.

As teasingly as he could, he said, "Yes, _Elena_, I'm awake _now_." He shoved the covers back, grinning when she turned away. "Oh come on, you're so _modest_. Actually, I admire that about you. The sexual tension between us is obviously overwhelming, and yet, you resist. Bravo, Elena. You make teenage girls everywhere look good."

She said nothing, but Damon could hear the blood rushing as she became angry. Unbothered, he pulled himself leisurely from bed and stretched until his fingertips trembled, glad the midday sun was there to warm him up. He raided his closet and, deciding against the zipper, picked out a pair of pajama pants. He didn't put on a shirt partly because making Elena blush twice was an excellent way to start the day, and partly because he'd been too lazy to do laundry, and all of his shirts were either bloodstained, or ripped to shreds.

His visitor didn't seem bothered by this. She took a seat on the end of his bed and tilted her head at him, smiling. "Having a lazy day?"

"You betcha," he winked and clicked his tongue, collapsing beside her on the bed. He lay with both arms stretched toward the pillows, his eyes on the ceiling. His jaws stretched in a gaping yawn, one that came from three days of constant napping.

"I didn't know vampires yawned," Elena commented.

"They also bite, so tell me what you want." He turned his head in her direction, though his eyes settled on the window. "Make it quick. I'm trying to spend as much time as _possible_ away from people I recognize. You're screwin' up my juju."

"I need a favor." His eyes snapped toward her and she put one hand up defensively, "It's nothing… big. I just need you to drive me-"

"Nope." He cut her off with one finger in the air, his eyes narrowing. "No, not happening; go ask someone else. Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

She frowned, getting to her feet and crossing her arms over her chest. "Why not?"

"Because I'm not going anywhere today. I'm gonna glue my ass to the couch, read a good book, and sip bourbon." He motioned to the bed. "And when I get sores from sitting down too long, I'll come up here and lay down. If you need someone to rub your shoulders, or a shoulder to cry on, or somebody to listen to _anything_ you need to say, I'm at your side a hundred percent, but if it requires walking, driving, getting dressed, leaving the state, leaving the _country_, fighting, swimming, jogging-"

"Okay, I get it. You're not moving." She let her hands fall to her sides. Her eyes left his and journeyed to the trail of clothes he'd left the night before. She smirked. "You need a maid. Or a hazmat team…"

"Well, you need a therapist, Miss 'I still sleep with a teddy bear.'" When she scoffed, he grinned. "And don't comment on it 'less you're gonna clean it. Hey, you lookin' for work? I have an outfit in the closet… what size are you?"

"You're gross." Her eyes stayed locked on his. "But… Damon… I really need you to do this for me. It requires minimal effort on your part. All you have to do is hold the wheel and push the pedals; it won't kill you."

Damon stared at her for a long minute, his focus so strong it made her look away. He studied the honesty of those beautiful brown eyes, and when she turned toward the window, he sat up, meandering between his desire to make her happy, and his desire to stay at home and drink all day. The contest seemed won because of his affection for this girl, and he gazed sadly at the bed he would leave behind.

"Where? And why can't you drive?"

Elena twisted and smiled brilliantly. "Because I don't like driving long distances… and I don't know how to get there. Plus your car doesn't have a roof. That's gotta count for something, right?"

He hummed deep in his throat, catching her reluctance. "Mhm. I have a feeling you don't want to tell me _where_ we're going."

"Promise you won't back out?"

He sighed, considering the things he could say to get out of this. It was stifled by the way she was staring at him; she was so cheerful, and her words were so hopeful. He couldn't stand the thought of ruining it, of ruining _her_.

"Fine. I won't back out." He held up a domineering finger, keeping her happiness at bay, "Unless it's in, like, Canada, or something."

Taking him off guard, Elena beamed at him. She took both of his hands and forced him off the bed, practically bouncing on her heels. "It's not Canada, doofus. It's Virginia Beach!"

Damon cocked an eyebrow.

"I know, the timing sucks and the Originals would be better off with me dead… and Alaric is still chasing them down, and we could all die at any second, but that's why we should go!" She squeezed his arm, still bouncing around. "Bonnie and Caroline planned it, but I think _everybody_ should come, including broody vampires who lock themselves in their room for a week."

His hope for a little Elena alone time was drained, and he gently pulled his arm from her grip. His smile was sad because, despite her happiness, he knew exactly why she was asking.

"Lemme guess: I wasn't invited, and you feel _bad_ about it."

Elena's smile vanished. "Well… yeah. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't come. It could be fun. Bonnie and Caroline will come around… they know how much good you've done."

A tremor of desire went through Damon, but he quelled it. He wanted nothing more than to sweep her off her feet, to walk down the shore hand-in-hand with her, to carry her back to her bed when she fell asleep in the sun… but it was a selfish thing to want. Her friends hated him, and Elena was a social person. She wouldn't be able to stand their cold shoulders, and she wouldn't appreciate him putting either of them in their place.

It was a risk Damon wanted to take so badly, but he didn't. He couldn't.

"Elena…" he said quietly, holding her face in his hands. "I know we're friends, but I'm not an idiot. The Scooby Gang doesn't like me – I've tried to kill them all at least once, and with some, I succeeded." She tried to turn away, but he held her there, "And I'm _not sorry_, Elena. That pisses them off. They don't want to be _near_ me, and no matter how much you do, it won't change that. You need to be around them; be a normal person for _five_ minutes."

"But you haven't done anything recently that-"

"Stefan left because of me," he pointed out. "He's the good brother, remember?"

Their eyes met. "He's coming back," she pointed out. "He left because a friend needed him, not because of you." Elena was being defensive. It emanated through her eyes.

"Have fun, okay?" he caught himself using his apologetic voice. "I'll be here when you get back."

"What're you gonna do for three days?"

He shrugged. They walked together through the hallway, but his steps were uneven. "Maybe I'll binge on blood and booze."

"So, nothing out of the ordinary?"

They smiled at each other as they stopped at the top of the stairs. Elena was still looking at him like she wanted to protect him from something, but Damon didn't want to hear anything about his _soul_, or his potential for good. He turned away, ready to begin his self-destructive ritual all over again, but Elena caught him by his arm and, to his surprise, pressed her lips gently to his cheek. As she pulled away, her eyes portrayed a powerful empathy and love that made adrenaline blossom in Damon's heart.

"We'll be at the Oceanside Resort," she murmured, taking a few steps toward the stairs. "You don't have to be alone all the time, Damon. That's what friends are for."

Damon had to stop himself from taking back what he'd said. He leaned against the wall, unable to find his balance; his dark eyes burned into hers. "Maybe I like being alone."

She shrugged, "We both know that's not true."

She was halfway down the stairs before Damon could speak again.

"I'll _think_ about it."


	4. Veiled

Her new home was a castle with no name, built in some earlier time that no one cared to recall or study, dominating the frigid, vacant Canadian shoreline like a Greek titan who'd broken his chains. When she had nothing better to do, and the buzz of alcohol had all but faded from her mind, Katherine wandered around the courtyard looking for signs of its former inhabitants, scenting the ancient blood, peeling layers of dirt from stone plates that held forgotten family names. Odd names. Pieces of a language that hadn't survived the establishment of the New World, or what non-English people once called _home_. She played with the roots of these words, thinking maybe she could derive the adjective _dark_, or _black_, in association with some type of animal; most likely a bird or a dragon. The Black Dragon; named for the twin stone dragons perched on the roof, staring ominously into the stormy sky, pointed toward the coast with claws raised aggressively.

Katherine found that she cared more for this place's former inhabitants than for the caretakers she'd drained of blood upon finding it. She spent the week that followed the Hybrid's supposed death cleaning and polishing the stones inside, tearing weeds from the benches, and decimating the rodent populations. She loved the Byzantine architecture, the subtle mixture between English and Gothic styles, modernized through the usage of smooth, refined stones. She loved the tall, smooth archways, the vaulted ceilings with dangling crystal chandeliers, the spiraling staircases with their cold marble handrails, and the steady slope of the white marble floor, dotted with beautiful imperfections.

She loved this place, and she was terribly sad to leave it. She'd rarely lingered somewhere long enough to regard it as her home, and even more rarely had she taken it upon herself to kidnap a local and compel them to guard it like their life depended on it.

There were more important things, she reasoned. She would never feel completely safe with Klaus alive and well, especially in a body she didn't recognize well enough to safely avoid. She had to eliminate him, and in order to do that she had to secure allies, including two men who would much rather see her dead. It all had to begin with a certain doe-eyed human who was her perfect copy; formerly the bane of her existence, and now the only way to cut off Klaus' supply of hybrids – and his power – completely.

She had to find Elena Gilbert.

But her plan, which had seemed perfect upon its conception, was quickly broken when she found her new housekeeper lying in several pieces on the Grand Staircase. Blood rolled down one step at a time, reaching Katherine's feet in a depressing parade.

"This place is nice," the vampire at the top of the stairs commented, walking slowly toward her as he took in the view. He threw his hands around cockily, looking away because he knew that his proximity prevented escape. Kol had always been the cockiest Original… and the most sadistic. "It's a little old for my taste, but it somehow holds its charm. Perhaps it's the blood; that's one of my favorite colors, dear."

With a blast of cold air, he was in front of her, leaning into her face with that terrifying smile on his lips. "I'd bet it makes _you_ look simply ravishing."

XxX

The resort was nicer than Elena had expected, especially coming from the pockets of several out-of-work teens and a busboy. They had private beach access, a large, shaded patio that was transformed into a karaoke stage nightly, and a massive gym with friendly staff and iced towels. It seemed unreal, so questionable that Elena had to pout for several hours before Caroline gave up the fact that the staffers weren't on vervain. It chilled her, challenging her perception of everyone she saw, but it wasn't enough to give up just one stress-free weekend. She just wanted to relax without the possibility of dying.

The first day went as planned for the most part. All day beach party, splashing each other in the shallows, attempting to surf but crashing repeatedly into the shore. Caroline and Tyler vanished for hours at a time, exploring the boardwalk, raiding beachside shops, and sampling everything that was offered. Bonnie spent her time lying out on her towel, soaking up the sun with a permanent frown on her face. Elena and Matt alternated between trying to cheer up Bonnie and harassing the fish closest to the shore, stirring up a few waves of crabs that very nearly made them fit for shark bait.

The older Salvatore showed up just as the sun was falling.

"Don't stop the party on my account," he said quietly as he made his way up the shore. Bonnie had removed her sunglasses, and she stared at him with narrowed eyes. He held his hands up in surrender. "Go back to sulking; I'm not here for you, grumpy." His eyes shifted to Elena, who'd paused with the waves trying to drag her out to sea. "Seen anything suspicious?"

As they waded toward each other, Elena shook her head. "Nope."

Damon smiled when she made it to his side, his face lit with youth. She'd never seen this bright, happy version of him, but she hoped to see more of it as he left his dark past behind. Unfortunately, that hope faded, because his expression changed in the blink of an eye.

"Where have you been today? Just here?"

She glanced reflexively at Bonnie, who was getting to her feet. When she looked back at Damon, she noticed his predatory expression rapidly deepening. "Damon?"

He turned, narrowing his eyes at the crowded, endless shore to their right. Caroline and Tyler were just getting back from another trip to the boardwalk, approaching from behind, shifting their stances like Damon had.

Several things happened at the same time. Caroline and Bonnie's heads snapped toward the boardwalk; Tyler shot off in that direction at vampiric speed, leaving a cloud of sand and dust behind him; Damon crashed into Elena so hard that she thought her hips had been shattered – he made a mad dash toward the buildings, running so fast that the world blurred and warped around her. Her stomach leapt out of her body; air whipped her cheeks; sand filled her throat.

In the very next moment she was thrown into a stone wall, her knees cracking against the hard, cold surface. She put out her hands to stop her nose from being broken. Damon stood directly in front of her, his hair disheveled, his wild eyes staring into the darkness beyond their corridor.

"Damon," Elena whispered. Suddenly she was pinned to the wall, Damon's hand clamped over her mouth, his head turned toward the open air just outside of their hiding place. Her heart hammered with fear.

He stood like that for several minutes, still and quiet, not taking a breath.

Someone was coming. Elena's heart threw itself against her ribcage; adrenaline poured through her body, quickening her breath. It was the sound of someone walking very quickly, and with specific purpose. Was it Rebekah? Kol? Elijah? Were they coming to kill her and end the reign of the Hunter? Would it happen before she could even try to defend herself? Would Damon die trying to protect her?

Her fears were quelled when Damon relaxed. He took up a protective stance in front of her, but released her mouth, his hand lingering on her forearm as if to run for another hiding place. The muscles in his back loosened and his expression twisted into a soft scowl.

"Katherine."

Her perfect copy – or the vampire Elena was a perfect copy _of_ – stepped from the shadows, overwhelming them with the smell of alcohol and blood. She had a wound on her head; her hair was matted with blood and a few lines trickled down her cheeks. The blood was mixed with sand. She looked exhausted, both physically and mentally drained, her shoulders slumping, her eyes opened narrowly. She seemed tense and scared, but almost too tired to remember _why_.

Looking at Katherine had always been like looking in a twisted fun-house mirror, one designed by the Grim Brothers. She saw a colder, harder reflection of herself, someone shrouded in darkness, someone with over six hundred years of knowledge and experience, someone she knew to be manipulative and cruel with no regard for human life. Even in her bravest moments, Elena was terrified of this vampire.

"I can't be here long," the drunken vampire murmured, looking between them, but settling more often on Elena. "I need you to meet me at this location as soon as possible, got it?" She un-balled her fist, revealing a crumpled napkin with coordinates scribbled on it in blue ink.

Damon remained completely still. "Why?"

"Because there's a way to kill Klaus without killing everyone in his bloodline," she snapped, reverting to her original flame while still managing to look pathetic. "It involves werewolves… We might have to dig deep-"

"Hold it," Damon interrupted her, finally losing his protective stance and walking toward his sire. With as much arrogance as he'd always used, he said, "Klaus _is_ dead. What the hell are you talking about?"

Katherine stared at him in apparent disbelief. Elena stepped closer, shaking her head, "Katherine… what do you know?"

Their eyes snapped together like puzzle pieces. Elena shuttered, uncomfortable with the vampire's odd behavior, but Katherine seemed as confident as ever. She walked right past Damon and stood face-to-face with her human carbon-copy. Smirking, she said, "Haven't you heard, Gilbert? The witches are all riled up. Apparently one of their own has gone rogue and spared the life of the Original Hybrid. I assumed it was your witch, because, come on, girl's got issues. I was right. She put Klaus in another hybrid, the second one. Tyler, right?"

Elena stumbled into the wall like she'd been hit. Damon stepped between them. He said something threatening to Katherine, and Elena was sure that the vampire responded, but she couldn't hear it. Their words were mush in her ears. She was thinking about Bonnie, picturing the young witch in her mind, trying to understand something that she couldn't bear to hear. How could this be true? How could her best friend spare the monster who'd spent a year tormenting her? The monster who'd killed her? How could Bonnie even consider it? She'd been on the beach with her moments ago. She was down there now with Matt and Caroline; and _Tyler_, or was it Klaus?

The water drained from her ears when Katherine spoke to her again. "We have to act fast, or history will be repeating, and none of us liked it enough to warrant a sequel. He's disoriented and weak, so we still have time to investigate this angle." She flattened her napkin in Damon's hand and folded his fingers around it. "Meet me _here_. Two days."

Damon stared at his hand, shaking his head. "What's this all about Katherine? What are you planning?"

"I guess you'll have to show up and find out," she backed away, looking around suspiciously before pulling the hood over her face. From the darkness, she said, "Believe it or not, Damon, I can be trusted. We have a common goal," Her eyes flickered momentarily to Elena. "We're in this together." Elena's heart stopped.

Damon almost said something, but their visitor had already vanished. He stood watching the darkness for several more minutes before turning back to Elena, an anxious light in his eyes.

"Damon…?" Elena whispered questioningly, avoiding contact with his ghostly eyes.

He instantly shifted into fury.

"Let's go back to the room… I need more alcohol. Don't mention this to the others, especially not Bonnie." He paused, staring dead into her eyes. The darkness made her take a step away from him. "I need your word, Elena. You have to act like nothing happened. You and I are going back to Mystic Falls _tonight_, and if Bonnie knows, she might warn Klaus."

"She's not working with him!" Elena objected. "She probably… did it to save you and Stefan. She's not bad… she can't be. You know her, Damon. It's _Bonnie_."

"If you say anything, I'll kill her."

Elena stared at him, disturbed by his sudden change in demeanor. It was a mixture of shock, fear, and frustration, coupled with his long-standing volatile relationship with their visitor and his general distrust of all other beings. He was angry and unstable, forcing Elena to agree out of fear rather than trust. If he killed Bonnie… if she had to go through that kind of grief… she couldn't even imagine the outcome.

"We leave in an hour." His voice was cold and empty. She found herself longing for the fiery anger, rather than this expressionless statement.

"Damon…?"

He stared at her, the blue in his eyes fading to black. "_What_?"

"Should I… call Stefan?"

"No, I'll do it."

"I can… stay out here if you want."

He laughed. It was a harsh, brutal sound, an abrupt end to the quiet of the hallway, and it made Elena flinch. The last time she'd heard that laugh, it came from Stefan, and he'd just finished telling her how pathetic she was. Damon noticed her reaction and, taking her shoulders under his hands, he whispered,

"I'm not letting you out of my _sight_, Elena. I sensed an Original on the beach, and you're their _target_. Stay close to me; and for God's sake, stop looking so… _scared_."

"You're _scaring_ me," she whimpered.

He rolled his eyes. "Work with me here. I'm not trying to _scare_ you. I'm trying to save your life."

The next thing she knew, he was dragging her back to the room. He zipped from place to place, gathering the things Elena had brought and flinging them into her open suitcase. He had his phone in hand, speaking quietly to his brother about what had transpired. Elena was so consumed by her own thoughts that she barely noticed her phone buzzing in her pocket.

It was a text from Katherine.

_Stefan and Damon can't be in this. It's life or death. They don't know how to hide from Klaus, not like I do. Traveling in a large group would be suicide._

Elena looked up to find Damon staring out the window, still speaking to Stefan. She could tell that he was talking about Katherine because of the curses he used.

She texted as quietly as she could manage.

_What do you want from me?_

_It's your fault he became a hybrid, and it's my fault you were born. We need to end this. Tell the boys you won't be going with them. I'll meet you at their house._

Elena shut her phone and shoved it back into her pocket, taking a breath that shook her spine. Her vampire double was right. The two of them were part of the Petrova bloodline, the key to Klaus' incredible power. She wanted nothing more than to destroy the black-hearted hybrid, and she knew she could trust Katherine's motivation. Klaus had killed her family and pursued her every moment of her immortal life. She hated him, too.

Her eyes slowly wandered to Damon. The hard part wasn't teaming up with someone she was afraid of, but leaving her friends and family behind. They loved her, and all they wanted was to protect her, even if it meant they would be hurt in the process.

_Not anymore_, she thought. _This time I'm saving them, and no one can stop me._


	5. Blame

It was almost sunrise when Damon pulled into the winding driveway of the Salvatore Boarding House. Even before the trees parted, he could see his brother pacing in the doorway, waiting and watching with eyebrows drawn, marble green eyes dark with worry and exhaustion. It was a relief to see Stefan, but Damon's face was stoic as he parked and exited the car, waking Elena by opening her door and catching her before she rolled out. She groaned angrily when he picked her up, but her head thudded to his chest a moment later. He carried her to the front door, sliding past Stefan and heading straight to the innermost chamber of the house; his drinking room. He laid Elena on the couch and hovered by the fireplace, ignoring bleary brown eyes that were just starting to open.

Taking up a protective position near the groggy girl, Stefan began the conversation.

"What do you think we should do?"

Damon sighed and crouched, staring into the fire. Driving here, he'd been too consumed with putting miles between Elena and Bonnie to even consider their next move. Now that he faced a decision, he was baffled. Klaus was alive, and therefore Elena was still in mortal danger. Klaus had been on _vacation_ with them, looking through Tyler's eyes, fraternizing with Caroline. Every Original other than Klaus would be hunting Elena in hopes of killing her, if only to get Alaric off of their trail. _Bonnie_, the witch they'd trusted all this time, had spared the life of their greatest enemy to date. Katherine of all people was offering to help them, and she expected Damon to drop every defense he'd built and jump on board.

It was too much to believe, too much to comprehend in one ridiculous day, so he murmured what first came to his mind. "I have no idea, Stefan." He pressed his lips together, shaking his head. "What's she playing at?"

"She seemed scared, Damon," Elena pointed out, her voice raspy. Both brothers turned as she pulled herself upright, her eyes a little wider as she tried to stay conscious. "I've never seen her so scared. And she was hurt. Why would she do all of that just to trick you?"

"Because she's a manipulative _bitch_." Damon stood, his eyes on Stefan. "The moment we trust her, she'll betray us. You _know_ that." He was partially trying to convince Elena, as most of Katherine's words had been directed at her. If Katherine thought she was going to worm her way into Elena's mind, she was sorely mistaken.

Stefan crossed his arms, shaking his head as if arguing with himself. When he looked up again, he was conflicted. "Katherine can't take us both at the same time, trap or not. If she tried anything, we'd be able to get away. She lost most of her friends when the church burned, and we've… killed… most of her other allies. She has no reason to lie, Damon. If Klaus is alive, we would be assets to her."

"You mean _Elena_ would be an asset; how convenient would it be for Katherine to trade Elena for her freedom? Klaus _needs_ her blood. Katherine _knows_ that."

Elena shook her head, stumbling from the couch to Damon's side. He could see how tired she was in the way she held herself, the way she stared at him with half-closed eyes. Her words were almost too soft to hear.

"She's not looking to trade; she wants Klaus dead. If we can kill _him_ without killing every vampire in his bloodline, everybody wins."

Damon took her arm and led her back to the couch, forcing her to sit down. "She's not looking out for everybody, Elena. She's looking out for herself. That's what Katherine does. She'll say _anything_, manipulate _anyone_. We can't take that risk."

"She could have information we need," Stefan objected. "I say it's worth checking out. We can't just sit around and do nothing while Klaus regains his strength. We have to have a plan."

Damon glared at his brother, finding more distaste for his new personality than ever. How could he be willing to risk Elena's safety? Why weren't they on a plane halfway to Iceland by now? Standing there, he was tempted to grab Elena and drive her cross-country, whether she was willing or not.

"This is all my fault."

Damon turned to find Elena with her head in her hands, shaking tears into the carpet. He made a move toward her, but Stefan beat him to it, sinking onto the couch with one hand on Elena's back. She shook him off, wiping her face with both palms before she spoke.

"It's not you two… it's _me_. I'm the doppelganger. Klaus needs my blood. He'll hurt you because you keep protecting me… if you just stopped, you'd be safe again. You'd stop fighting each other. You wouldn't have to worry about Katherine."

He immediately felt a familiar rage, stepping closer with one angry finger in her face. "_Don't_ even start that 'boohoo I'm the center of supernatural energy, life's so hard' _crap_ again. I _swear_ I will find another witch and get her to lock you in this damn house if you even _try_ to be a martyr."

"Damon…" Stefan warned.

Unafraid, Elena stood and confronted him. "Why can you sacrifice yourself, but the moment I try to do it, I get put in time out? That's not fair, Damon!"

"Well you know what else isn't fair?" Damon snapped, "_Life_. I'm stronger than you, and what I say goes."

All she could do was puff air into her cheeks and storm from the room. Stefan sighed, but Damon glared after her, still consumed with anger. Whatever happened, he wouldn't include her; he wouldn't let her fall victim to what they were about to get into. He'd rather leave her angry, than dead. He'd rather she hate him for a nice long _human_ life, than from the grave… or for eternity.

"Pushing her away?" Stefan wondered quietly.

Damon shrugged. "Keeping her alive, Stefan. That's what I do."

XxX

"You're being a jackass for no reason. I can _help_ you."

It had been nine hours, give or a take a few naps, since Elena had decided to team up with Katherine, and she was already having doubts. She wanted to be with Stefan and Damon, where she knew she would be safe. Everything would be fine. They'd find a way to deal with Klaus and the world would go back to normal. Katherine would go back into hiding. Bonnie would explain her reasons. Caroline and Tyler would live happily ever after. It would be fine; perfect, even. The only hinge was Damon's ironic argument that she stay behind.

"Me? Stubborn? Impossible," he scoffed arrogantly. "And since we're name-calling, you're a self-serving _idiot_. You're so hell-bent on using your girl-power to balance the world on your shoulders, you just don't see it: you can't _do_ anything. You're _human_, Elena. Virtually useless. No amount of '80s work-out montages or Slayer-training sessions will prepare you to fight something supernatural. The Originals could snap your neck in a second, before you even knew what was happening. You want to keep us all alive? Stop putting yourself in danger."

"That's _enough_, Damon."

"Stay out of this, Stefan!" Damon snapped, an animal-like growl rippling through his throat. His eyes rolled back to his worried brother for a moment, but they soon focused on Elena, full of more sarcastic humor than malice. "Why don't you sit your pretty little butt down and wait for us to get back like a good little human?"

Seething, Elena pushed him away and headed for the door. She wasn't surprised to find him standing there, smirking at her and ticking his finger.

She tried to shove him. "You can't make me stay here while you're _gone_."

"Wherever you go, we'll just track you down. Why not stay put and make my job easier?"

Stefan stepped in beside him. "She's not our prisoner, Damon."

"She's _my_ prisoner," Damon grinned at her, not even glancing at his brother. "Want me to pull out the chains? I have some fluffy pink ones if that's more your style."

Strangely enough, it was his arrogance that kept her from crying. It was easy to burst into tears when he was being flat-out mean, degrading her for no purpose other than his own inner turmoil, but when he was acting like a child with his head chock full of hot air, it really _pissed_ _her off_. He had such an alpha-complex, such a carelessness for things that should've been serious. She wasn't afraid of him, she was angry.

"Why do you try so hard to get me to hate you?" she demanded, staring into his eyes. "Why can't you just accept that I care about you, no strings attached?"

Damon's grin melted and he straightened, tilting his head. It seemed that he would say something, as his lips were parted and his eyebrows drew down, but he relented in jerk-behavior and turned for the door. "We'll be back in a few days. The address is in South Carolina. You need to go to your house and hide under the bed; none of the Originals are invited in… except Elijah… but he's _moderately_ stable."

In a last-ditch attempt, she grabbed his arm. "Don't you think I would be safer with you two? What if Bonnie comes back? What if Elijah hands me over to Klaus?"

Damon pulled out of her grip. "Klaus would expect you to be with us. There's a chance that if he's following _anything_, he's following Stefan and me." He blinked, looking away. "Let's go, Stefan. Long drive ahead."

While his arrogant older brother strutted down the front walk, Stefan wrapped Elena in a warm hug. Despite his absence, and how sad his departure had been, he was still full of the beautiful light that she'd fallen in love with. "He's just worried," he whispered, pulling away and dropping his arms. His eyes burned into hers. "You'll be fine. Call us if need anything."

She smiled, her temper successfully reigned. She leaned up to meet him for a soft kiss. "Okay… I'll do that." As he turned for the door, she added one last thing, "And… take care of him, Stefan. He's mad, and when he's mad, he always does something stupid."


	6. Safe

Katherine showed up only minutes after the Salvatores had left. She drove a black blazer with mud-streaked tires and a dented bumper, an uncharacteristically inconspicuous vehicle. When she got out, Elena saw that she wore pale, saggy blue jeans, a baseball cap hiding her dark, curly hair, and a T-shirt supporting some indie band Elena had never heard of. She was uninjured, again a cool, confident predator who walked like a hunting tigress. The entirety of her arrival swept Elena's doubts to the back of her mind. She thought again of Bonnie's betrayal, and the brutality of the Original Hybrid. She thought about her own life compared to that of Katherine, and how devastating it would be to find the same end.

The vampire motioned for Elena to get in the car. "It's not safe here." Her words were short and blunt, but there was a seriousness in her that Elena had never seen before. She knew Katherine to be a sarcastic, loathsome woman, reserving the parts of herself that made her seem weak. When she spoke, she only revealed what she wanted others to know, but now there was urgency in her voice, a frightening quality in someone so… placid.

They hit the highway, and then merged onto the interstate, where rarely a car was seen. From there, they took several back exits and twisted dirt roads to get to Hickory Path, at which point Katherine seemed to relax. She lowered their speed and propped one hand on the wheel, digging through a massive pile of CDs directly behind her seat. She picked Bon Jovi. Every now and then they passed signs proclaiming dead-end roads and private properties, each covered in a thousand tendrils of ivy and writhing with cobwebs, but slowly, more slowly than the clouds drifting above, they left all traces of life behind. There were no friendly, smiling faces, no neighborhoods or rural towns, no farms or buildings, not even abandoned ones. The road just kept moving deeper into the forest, so deep that Elena was convinced Katherine had gotten them lost.

Her anxiety faded when she saw a lone sign poking out through some crowded undergrowth. Hickory Plantation. The little wooden post began a long line of ivy-covered arches and led them down another winding path, this one made of red dirt. Occasionally she spied the old building through the trees, finding it irreversible damaged, falling apart from the outside in, completely uninhabitable and probably a death trap. Elena tried to remain calm, but when Katherine pulled up to the rotten front steps and the hum of the radio turned off, she couldn't hold it in.

"This is safe?" she demanded.

Katherine removed her sunglasses, revealing eyes beset with dark rings. She was still exhausted, but healthier than she'd been the day before, perhaps recovering after getting such a severe beating.

"Don't try the steps," she responded, leading the way to the front of the mansion. They both grimaced into the depths of the broken porch. "You know, I came to this place in 1863, and I remember it being so beautiful. Pearl and I considered living here."

Elena shifted uncomfortably. "Why did you bring me here?"

The demeanor of her company changed in an instant. Katherine turned to look at her, taking a breath that smelled of cheap liquor. "Are you really in this, Elena? I need to know that you're with me, start to finish, no backing out."

"I-I won't back out," Elena stuttered. Her mind ran wild, instinct begging her to flee, to escape this monster, this menace, before she was killed. She wanted so badly to protect her friends, to save Stefan and Damon from Klaus' terror, to get him out of Tyler's head, to destroy him for killing Jenna and causing Alaric's downfall, but at the same time, self-preservation was trying to kick in. It was torturous.

Smiling, Katherine took a step toward her. She pulled out a cellphone and dialed a number Elena couldn't catch, speaking rapidly in a language Elena had never heard. When the phone was shut and back in her pocket, Katherine explained.

"We can't have the Salvatores tracking you down, so I've just called my good friend Rafael. He's going to put a spell around this place, preventing anyone who enters from seeing the two of us." Shrugging, she gazed up at the second floor window, which hung ajar. "Pretty neat, huh?"

"Yeah… neat…" Elena whispered, following the vampire to the back of the mansion. Their slow pace allowed Elena to examine the large, busted windows built into the walls, and the strange architecture that marked the earliest period of the United States.

"I have a few things; mattresses, lanterns, paper, a thousand textbooks… plenty of dust. You don't need clothes 'cause we won't be here long, and this place doesn't have power… or running water. We can stock up on supplies when I figure out where to go, but until then, you'll have to fend for yourself. You like beef jerky, right?"

Elena shrugged. "I can go into town and buy food… which way is town?"

"Take a left out of the driveway. I think it's called… Pine-something? I dunno." She motioned to the back door. "When you get back, come through here and walk straight until you can't anymore, then turn left and take the first right. That's the living room. If you go another way, you might fall through the floor, and I might not feel like pulling you out."

Elena folded her arms over her nervous stomach, looking toward the front again. As Katherine vanished into the house, she took several minutes to pull herself together. She'd never faced something so dangerous alone – _someone_ so dangerous. For a long time, she'd feared Katherine. Damon didn't trust her. Stefan was even unsure about her. She could've been putting herself in grave danger, and she wanted nothing more than to run home, call Stefan, and fling herself into his arms when he returned. She wanted safety again, and comfort, and a friendly face that wouldn't even _consider_ leaving her in a dark pit.

What was Katherine really up to? What did she want from a useless human like Elena? Who was strong enough to get the upper hand on Katherine, and why did they let her escape? Was she compelled? Was this part of some plan thought up by the Originals?

Elena knew next to nothing, but she couldn't back out. She had to be brave, or she'd just prove Damon right. She had to kill Klaus and protect the ones she loved; she had to be a warrior, not a martyr or a damsel. This was her only chance to be a hero.


	7. Cold

Elena almost fell through the floor on her way back into the house. Twice. She couldn't remember if Katherine had told her to go right and then left, or left and then right, and because both options were offered, she doubted her instincts. She turned the wrong way the first time, narrowly avoiding a plank that crumbled into nothing before hopping back to safety. Heart hammering, she took the other direction and then turned the opposite way, not considering the logic for one moment. Her body pitched forward as the wood dipped under the touch, the bag of groceries swinging wildly on her outstretched arm.

Just before she met the blackness below, Katherine fisted her shirt and yanked her backwards, nearly throwing her through the opposite doorframe. She clung to it, panting, and tried to thank her savior, but her carbon copy had vanished.

Katherine was under the house; she stood in what could've been Elena's grave. The human hovered at the top while the vampire investigated the peaty earth, occasionally squinting up into the sunlight from the collapsed ceiling. Her face was lit with refreshing humor.

"Do you want me to draw you a map next time?" she taunted good-naturedly, standing and cocking her head.

"W-What's down there?" Elena asked. She couldn't see the bottom, but several things sparkled in the darkness, and Katherine seemed to have something in her hand. The pit went on forever, an underground cavern winding into forever.

Suddenly, Katherine was at her side. She pressed a jagged wooden stake into Elena's grip, her eyes on the gaping darkness below their feet. "That's a vampire trap. A very crude one." She smiled, amused, and led the way into the living room. Elena paused in the doorway to set the stake down, but was soon captivated by Katherine's set-up.

The floor was covered in thick blankets, the furniture strewn with pillows, comforters, beef jerky wrappers, empty blood bags, and ancient textbooks. Oil lamps lit the four corners, and directly across from her, a large fireplace hosted a roaring fire. Katherine walked straight across the blankets barefoot, snatching a bottle of liquor from the mantle. She checked its label, smirked, and collapsed onto the nearest couch.

Taking a swig, she motioned roughly in the direction of the trap. "In the 1800s, this town, much like pleasant little Mystic Falls, was aware of vampires, and though the townsfolk had never seen or fought one… they were prepared. Lucky me, huh? I only realized later that Stefan and Damon's _father_ would be my undoing." Another swig. Another rough gesture. "Those were simple times, full of simple-minded people." She held up the stake. "There were at least a hundred of these wedged in the ground. They were covered in holy water and sprinkled with garlic. It's all rotted away now, but I can still smell it."

Elena began walking around the room, bending to get a better look at each open book. None of the languages were familiar, and some of them only seemed like scribbles and dots. Faded pictures dotted most of the pages, depictions of werewolves and vampires from various continents, in a barrage of different time periods. As she moved, she responded to Katherine, "Those things don't hurt vampires. Didn't the people know that?"

Katherine hummed in agreement, flipping through the book on the cushion beside her. It had to be at least a thousand pages, but it wasn't even the largest in the room, nor was it the oldest. Still, its value must've been somewhere in the millions, and here sat a vampire browsing it like a salon magazine.

"They knew a lot of things back then, but most of it wasn't true. They were misguided by how much historic tampering Klaus and Elijah did; told of things that may harm vampires as a way to distract them from what _actually_ worked. Vampires were a mystery… a living myth… Unfortunately, people tend to have very quick learning curves, and when they realized their little potions weren't working, they turned to vervain. That put us at a disadvantage."

She stopped flipping to take another drink. This one lasted longer, and Elena could see the bottle emptying.

"Fortunately," she continued, gasping to regain a breath she didn't need, "Nothing takes me _completely_ off-guard. There were a few of these traps in Mystic Falls, but they preferred to lace the water supply with that nasty little herb. I was prepared to defend myself against it, but… I was surprised that Giuseppe would use his own son to capture me. Luckily, I already had a plan in place." Katherine turned one more page, but her eyes inevitably traveled to Elena. "You'll learn not to trust anyone in the interest of survival. _Trust_ me."

Elena folded her arms, warding off the anxiety she felt. She was alone with a drunk vampire who didn't give a crap about her life, a vampire who would do _anything_ to save herself. She couldn't help thinking that Damon was right about Katherine, that the vampire had something dangerous up her sleeve.

"What are you doing here, exactly, Katherine?" She tried to be calm. Collected. "Other than drinking and eating beef jerky."

Katherine smiled, pulling her legs onto the couch and snuggling into the blankets. She held her bottle like it was a child. "I've been alternating. I read sometimes. I need a study-buddy to keep me focused." Her head hit the armrest and she stared at Elena through a veil of dark, curly brown hair. "Sit down. I'll tell you what I know so far, and… why it's better that no one else knows."

"Including Stefan and Damon?"

"_Especially_ them." She rolled her eyes. "They're good, they're too strong for me to take on _together_, and they love you. They won't let you get hurt, and if there's a possibility, they won't risk it."

"Will I get hurt?"

"You're a doppelganger. You're a binding agent. You'll have to hear the whole story to understand, but, trust me, you're in danger. Not that I can't protect you or anything."

Elena nodded uncertainly, taking a seat on the opposite couch. She felt the chill of wind, though no windows were opened. The hair on the back of her neck stood at attention. Little spurts of uncertain adrenaline flowed into her blood. Even when she wrapped herself in the nearest blanket, which turned out to be electric and set on high, she felt strangely hollow.

Katherine pressed her lips together in a grim smile. "You'll have to get used to that for now. The cold, I mean. There's darkness here. They absorb heat because they're cold inside; empty, broken, drained. It's their nature to wander around… lost."

Elena shivered. "They?"

"The spirits… or, ghosts, if that's what you prefer. They're not corporeal, or visible, like ones you've encountered in the past, but they're very real, and very… dangerous."

"Then why here? Why are you here instead of somewhere safer?"

Katherine took a deep breath, examining her bottle again. "It wasn't my choice. I needed Rafael's help, and he's bound to this place." Her eyes cut up to Elena's, glowing in the half-light. "He's upstairs, but I don't suggest you stop by. He's very private… and he can be volatile."

"What are you doing here, Katherine? What are you researching?" Elena took a breath, but it felt like her lungs were being squeezed. "How are you going to kill Klaus?"

The vampire stared at her alcohol for a long moment, and then she tucked it against her side and turned her attention to Elena. "Did you know that it was our ancestor's blood that bound Klaus' werewolf side?"

Elena nodded.

"Well, I got to thinking that since you're still human, your blood is the very blood that first subdued the werewolf in him, keeping him from being a true hybrid. That's what makes him so strong, and that's what makes the dagger useless. If we can trace the lineage of werewolves back to the very first to mutt, one of two things can happen."

Suddenly she stood, crossing the room and standing in front of Elena.

"Either we find someone magically-endowed enough to re-curse Klaus, or we find someone who's trained in the essence of the werewolf, who could _extract_ the wolf from him."

Elena blinked, her breath freezing in her throat. "You mean… someone who can… make werewolves into humans?"

"And hybrids into vampires."

"That's impossible."

"It's _plausible_, and that's all I need. If we dig deep enough into what werewolves are, where they come from, and what – other than wolfs bane – is lethal to them, we might be able to take Klaus down once and for all, leaving me, Stefan, and Damon alive. If it's even _remotely_ possible, I say it's worth it. Really, what are our other options?"

"What about Alaric? The Originals want me dead because he's chasing them, and our lives are tied together somehow. How can we look into Klaus while there's a chance Ric could kill him?"

"Klaus isn't getting caught," Katherine pointed out. "He's very good at running away. He spent nearly a thousand years running from his father, and he's still got friends out there. As long as they're both alive, they're distracting each other, and we have time to take one problem down before thinking about the other. You know what that'll take, don't you?"

"What?" Elena stared at her.

"To kill the psycho vampire hunter, you have to die." While Elena stared at her, shaking her head in denial, Katherine narrowed her eyes and started ticking her fingers. "He's armed with what, again? Oh, an unbreakable stake made to kill Originals. He's faster and stronger than any other vampire alive because he wasn't sired; Esther _made_ him to _hunt_ vampires. I wouldn't even know where to start, and he'd probably just kill me, Stefan, Damon, and every other vampire you know so he could keep you prisoner while he does what he was designed to do. Sound like fun, Elena?"

Elena took a deep breath and looked away. "Let's just focus on Klaus. I don't wanna talk about Alaric right now."

"You don't want to be a vampire; I get it. But, you know, life isn't fair. Everybody dies eventually. At least you get the benefit of coming back."

Elena was feeling sick, so she broke off the conversation and picked up the closest book. "What am I looking for?"

"Don't overestimate me; I can't read this _crap_. Just look at the pictures and see if there's a wolf anywhere in the book, or something wolf-like. If it's a yes, put it over here and we'll translate them later," she patted the small pile of books at her feet. "Translating Arabic is easy; wait until you find a book written in _Latin_. Every word means ten different things."

Elena felt her phone buzzing in her pocket. Looking up, she found the vampire's eyes on her. "I won't tell them where we are," she said quickly. "I promise. I… I don't want them here."

Katherine nodded. "Don't forget the way out. Leave a trail of crumbs."

Rolling her eye, Elena headed for the door, carefully making her way through the creaky floors. When she was outside, her body warmed immediately, and the buzzing ended. Her mind cleared, and the weight on her body seemed lifted.

"Hi, Stefan."

"_Elena_? Thank God. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm… with Katherine."

Silence.

"I know you don't trust her, but I do. I have to. I… won't be home for a while. Please, tell Damon not to do anything stupid."

"He's right here if you want to talk to him."

"What's he…" she paused. "Is he mad?"

"He's worried. We both are. Please, Elena, just come home. We can work this out once you're safe. There's another way to get to Klaus, you just have to trust me and Damon to find it."

Elena bit her lip. "I'm doing this alone, Stefan. I'm not putting you in danger. You've risked your life for me, and now it's my turn. I love you… and I hope I make it back so I can tell you in person again. Goodbye."

"Elena, wait-"

She ended the call, standing completely still until she could work up the courage to crush her phone. Tears formed in the pits of her eyes, but she blinked them away. Katherine was hovering behind her, and the last thing she wanted to do was show weakness. She knew this vampire, she knew how little regard she had for life in any form, how she lacked empathy and sought only to spare her own life. Elena meant nothing to her. She was just the means to an end. Elena went straight back to the book she'd been looking through, trying to ignore her immortal shadow, trying to keep the pain from her face.

"It's better for them," Katherine murmured, having followed her back to the modified sitting room. She set her bottle down on the mantle and went back to her place. "Let's just hope _they_ realize it."

"They'll look for me," Elena warned, sniffling.

"Yeah? Well, they won't find you. They'll come here to an empty house, probably fall through the floor a few times, and then they'll go home and wait for their loyal Gilbert to return."

"They won't give up that easily."

"Yeah… I know."


	8. Her

Stefan stood in front of the Hickory Plantation, his dark green eyes narrowed to catch the slightest movement within the mansion. Occasionally he saw the dark pelt of a mouse as it zipped through the overgrown bushes, or the sparkle of a snake's scales as it slid into hiding. His senses were so strained that he could hear the furious beating of the mouse's heart from fifty feet away. He was disappointed that he heard nothing of Elena or Katherine, not even the slightest breath, or the tiniest whisper.

"There's no sign of them leaving," Damon reported, appearing at his side. As he turned to get a look at the house, he shook his head in apparent disbelief, "The trail ends here, brother. They have to be in there."

"I can't hear them…" Stefan murmured, folding his arms. "I don't like that. There's something wrong." He refused to believe that they were dead, but he had his doubts. Katherine was very capable of going deep into hiding.

Damon snorted. "This is so Katherine of her. I mean, the fake note, the begging at the door… she put on quite a show." He cocked an eyebrow at Stefan. "What if Katherine compelled her? It wouldn't be a long-shot. Remember, I told you Katherine was looking at _her_ specifically when she came to the hotel."

"You would've known if she was trying to compel Elena. Besides, she has Vervain in her system. I know because I put it there." Stefan turned toward his brother, letting out a frustrated breath. "I don't like the looks of this, Damon. The trail ends, but we can't hear them. It sounds like magic to me, and witches aren't always friendly to vampires."

"Whatever. She's in there, and she's not in her right mind. Either you come or you don't. See if I care." With that, Damon stalked toward the house, putting on the vampire-speed when he hit the front steps. Stefan jogged after him, leaping across the hazardous mantle.

As they stood there, all the heat left Stefan's body, and a sense of dread settled over them.

_What did Elena get herself into?_

XxX

Elena gasped, flattening her hand on one of the ancient book's leathery pages. She re-read the sentence that had startled her and, smiling, she held it up for Katherine to see. The vampire tilted her head from the opposite couch and, still excited, Elena hopped up and collapsed beside her, jabbing at the newest translation of the word both of them had started hating.

Katherine shrugged. "And the difference is…?"

"It means 'tether,' not 'hold.' They're two completely different words in this language. You hold a book, but whenever they talked about tethering, it mentions an animal."

Their eyes met.

"So… these guys wrote about werewolves in the context that they were animals instead of men…" Her face twisted with frustration and she laid her head back, sighing at the ceiling. "Well, I have seven books to go through _again_. Thanks, Elena."

"I'll take that as gratitude," Elena murmured, marking the page and setting the book in the pile at Katherine's feet. Like clockwork, she got up to retrieve another book, and, like clockwork, when she returned Katherine was holding two full-to-the-brim shot glasses. Elena took hers gratefully, letting the alcohol fight her exhaustion.

Katherine glanced at the window, cringing, "Maybe we should call it an afternoon. You look a little dead; deader than me."

"You're hilarious," Elena muttered, slumping into the cushion.

She heard Katherine buzz away, and the sound of the cooler opening and closing. When she returned, Elena watched her tear the top from a blood-bag. Her slurping became disgustingly loud, driving Elena to the other couch once more. She found herself bundled in the covers, her head mashed into the cushion to block out the sunlight.

"You know, you _could_ use the bed down the hall. It's not really… stable… but I give it three good nights of absolute stillness before it caves."

"Thanks, but no thanks. I prefer the couch."

"Suit yourself, Gilbert."

XxX

Stefan paused halfway down the entrance hall. His body felt cold, like someone had sucked the heat straight from his veins, and the strength of his night-vision began to fail; dark corners became blacker, holes became endless pits. Below him, the floor creaked as if wind passed through it, and the scent of wild garlic clogged his senses. Flowers grew right under his feet, sporting unusual colors Stefan had never seen. They were almost unnatural… almost magical.

As he crouched to get a better look at the foliage, convinced that tone of blue was too dark to be real, Damon stepped to the right at the end of the hall and, with a loud crash, he disappeared. His speed was diminished, so it took Stefan too long to get there. He found a Damon-sized hole in the ground and impenetrable darkness on the other side.

"Damon? Are you okay?" He called. "What happened?"

Damon's voice was muffled. "Well, Stefan, I fell in a hole. I thought that was pretty self-explanatory." He was being sarcastic, but Stefan heard him groaning and shifting. He could smell his brother's blood heavy in the air. "Oh yeah, and I got _skewered_. If you don't mind, could ya shine a little light on me?"

Stefan yanked the phone from his pocket, hitting his stomach to reach into the darkness. The light popped on and the treacherous bottom of the pit was revealed; an archaic vampire trap. Damon had been impaled by at least seven of the mounted stakes, and the dark ground was covered in his blood. As soon as the light hit, he looked up and squinted. "Be careful. I swear I felt something push me."

Stefan frowned. "I didn't see anyone."

"Well, someone pushed me. Do you think I'm stupid enough to land like this?"

Suddenly the air became thick. Stefan scented something, a presence, but he had no time to react. Something touched his shoulders and the distance between his nose and the ground vanished. He was consumed by agony as wood pierced his stomach, his neck, his thighs, and his calves. Blood drained from his body, but the fight for consciousness was lost.

The last thing he heard was Damon's voice.

"Told you so."

XxX

Elena awakened to the soft touch of a hand on her back. She sat up upon her visitor's gentle request, and she found herself in a massive, feather-soft bed. The room was one she didn't recognize, and when she tried to look at the window, she couldn't figure out what time of day it was. Her mind was jumbled, so off-kilter that she wasn't even surprised by who was sitting on the bed with her.

"Hello, Elena Gilbert," the man said, nodding to her. His black eyes were narrowed. "Welcome to my home. I was… surprised when Katherine allowed a _human_ to help her. Even more surprised when I realized who you were, and how valuable you are."

Elena stared at him, unable to feel fear. "Valuable?"

"Yes. There's a witch here who would love to get her into your head. Many of them actually." He stood, walking to the window and gazing into the gray air. "It's our nature to want to restore balance… a creature like Klaus should not be allowed to exist, and it's his existence that keeps us from resting." He looked back, dark brown returning to his eyes. "Very few that have passed on retain a foothold like I do, and I've decided to use that foothold, this house, to help you in your task of destroying the hybrid."

She only watched him now, unable to form a response. Something was stopping her, as if her mind was filled with sludge, her limbs set in concrete.

"I agreed to Katherine's condition because, like I've said, my foothold is _this_ house. This is the only place I can affect the corporeal world, and through it, I can keep the two of you safe until the time of your departure."

"Why are you helping Katherine? Why _her_?" Her mind was muddled by whatever spell he was using on her, but she could see no logic in his words, and she had enough willpower left to question him.

He smiled. It was an empty expression. "Katherine is very old and very determined. One of her most distinctive traits is self-preservation, and Klaus is a threat to her survival… a threat to the survival of those she loves."

"Katherine doesn't love _anyone_."

"She says she doesn't love anyone," his lips twisted in what Elena could only imagine was a strange sense of pleasure. "But that is a very well-kept secret on her part. Sarcasm and arrogance only go so far in my world, Elena. She and I have come to an understanding. We're useful to each other. As long as Klaus is alive, we have a common enemy."

The spell strengthened, rendering Elena incapable of speech.

"Don't worry, Elena, I won't allow Esther a hold on your mind, nor will I allow any of my other magically-inclined… guests… to cause you harm. It is my understanding that you will be assisting Katherine in her task; that is why I'm concealing your presence from the two vampires currently snooping within these walls. Stefan and Damon Salvatore."

Elena's eyes widened. Yet again, the spell strengthened, holding her in place.

"Don't fret, I won't harm them. Another condition of Katherine's… But I will send them warily away from this place." He stepped up to the bed, resting his hand on Elena's cheek. She found herself looking up at him. "Do me a favor and tell Katherine that you must hurry. I understand that you have a location in mind?"

"Russia," Elena responded mechanically.

"Then make haste. I will keep the Salvatores in the trap for three days, but my magic is not strong enough to contain them once their bloodlust reaches a certain… uncontrollable level. Go to Russia with the books that have interested you; trace the werewolf line until you find what you are looking for."

The room began to fade. It was like Elena was staring through the bottom of a glass. The last thing she heard was the soft billow of the wind, and the creaking of her visitor walking away.

XxX

"Elena?"

Elena sat bolt-upright, her body drenched in sweat, her eyes wide with fear. She found Katherine standing beside the couch, one hand extended as if to touch her, eyes equally wide with surprise. After a long minute of staring at each other, Katherine murmured, "He visited you, didn't he?"

Elena nodded, pushing her hair back with trembling hands.

"He doesn't look scary… he doesn't act scary… but he's _damn_ terrifying, isn't he?"

She nodded again, trying to control her breathing. "He said… he said… he said he has Damon and Stefan… in the vampire trap. He'll keep them for three days… he wants us to go to Russia."

Katherine glanced toward the doorway, her hand tightening. "He said he wouldn't hurt them…" She walked to the other couch and began gathering books. "If he says go, then we're going. Say goodbye while you still have the chance."

"But they can't see me, can they?"

"You can see them. That's all that matters."

Elena found them in the same trap that had almost killed her. She laid flat on her stomach to peer down at them, sadness overwhelming her.

Suddenly she heard a short groan, followed by Damon's voice.

"Told you so."

Her heart jumped at the sound and she leaned further, squinting to see them. Damon was on the left, and Stefan, the right. They were both badly hurt, but Elena fought the urge to go to them, knowing either Katherine of Rafael would stop her. Still, the instinct to protect was ingrained.

"Everything's gonna work out," she whispered, a tear dropping from her eye. "You'll be okay… both of you… I promise…" She was overcome with guilt, completely aware that she was betraying both of them. They would _never_ leave her like this; they would _never_ sit idly by while she was suffering. The only thing that kept her from climbing down was the knowledge that she was keeping them out of the bigger battle. The further they were from her, from Klaus and the Originals, the safer they would be.

She was about to leave, to help Katherine make an escape, but Damon began squirming in place, his voice rising out of an agonized moan. "Stefan? Did you feel that? Is it raining? _Stefan_? Oh, great, you get to be unconscious." The stubborn vampire strained upward, his eyes scanning the hole. Elena withdrew, afraid he'd see her, but his voice drew her closer. "Come out, you coward! Come out and fight me like a man!"

"He's always been spunky." Katherine crouched by Elena's side, gazing down at the fallen Salvatores. "I'll give him that." She looked over, her eyes dark. "It's time to go. Say goodbye. This may be the last time you see them for a long time."

As the vampire left her, Elena stared at Damon's bloody back. Something touched her shoulders, something warm and familiar. Elena heard Rafael whispering strange words in her ear; she couldn't understand him.

"Let him hear me…" she whispered to the ghost. "Just once. I just need him to know…"

Far below, Damon stirred. She held her breath as he raised his head, blinking in the darkness. "Stefan?" he hissed. "Stefan? Are you awake?"

Elena's heart began to beat unsteadily. She leaned as far as she could into the pit, hands clenched on the broken edges, and whispered, "Damon, I… I love you. I'm sorry. We'll see each other again, I promise. Goodbye…"

His struggling began to break the wood that held him. "Elena?" he yelled, one hand planted on the ground, his head turned so far she thought he would break his own neck. "Elena? No, don't go anywhere! Please, just get me out of here. Let us _help_ you."

It took more self-control than she'd ever used to walk away. The last thing she heard was Damon screaming her name. His desperate pleading made her heart grow colder.


	9. Dilemma

"He'll never let you go." Katherine broke the silence that had been thriving since their departure, unable to bear another moment in her own dark mind. Left to her own devices, she thought of that night in Canada; the only night that challenged her bravado. "It's not what Damon _does_," she went on, turning her attention to her companion. "He loves deeply and recklessly. He would follow you for the rest of his life if he had to. That's how he functions."

"You would be the expert," Elena responded dryly.

Katherine laughed. It came out sharper than she'd intended. "I am. I broke his heart first. I'm just saying that he'll be a problem for us. He's…"

"Impulsive."

Their eyes met for a brief moment. Elena's were glassy, full of the anxiety and sadness that had plagued her short life. The bridge between her warm human heart and the frigid influence of vampires was wearing thin; there was almost no warmth left in her.

"Yes," Katherine responded. "That makes him a problem. However unintentionally, he'll cause a stir or leave a trail for Klaus to follow. The Originals will be inclined to stop us."

"What are you suggesting?"

Taking a breath that hung momentarily in the air, Katherine jerked to the side of one of North Carolina's more rural highways. The only thing in sight was a little motel that advertised rooms by the hour, and even that was obscured by an overgrown holly tree. When she cut the car off, there was virtually nothing save the sound of her voice.

"I need to know, Elena, how far are you willing to go to destroy Klaus?"

Elena didn't hesitate. "I'll do anything."

"Good."

The girl's eyes grew weary all of the sudden, and Katherine could feel her blood racing. Fear grew like a shadow in her expression. "Exactly… what do you have in mind?"

"You have to die, Elena." Before she could react, Katherine was ripping the skin from her own wrist and forcing it down her throat. She left Elena spluttering and coughing, her eyes filled with a sudden, powerful apprehension.

She stared at Katherine with the innocence and terror of a young child, the brown in her eyes consumed by her pupils, blood dripping from her lips. "No… I can't… I don't want to be a vampire. Please, Katherine, don't do this, there has to be another way!"

Katherine worked very hard to feel nothing. The bonds of blood, which tied them through at least seven generations, were suddenly weighing on her. Unintentionally, she spoke. "It's okay, Elena, I have some of your blood preserved in case we need it. If you want to protect the people you love, you have to be _strong_, and that means becoming a vampire."

She leapt from the car, buzzing to Elena's door and yanking it open. Elena scrambled away, screaming and crying, clawing for anything that may spare her, but Katherine was ages stronger. She held the girl by her collar, bringing them face to face. Her young human heir stared at her like a mouse caught in the gaze of a snake.

"You'll thank me for this later, Elena."

With that, she put one hand on Elena's thin jaw, and the other on the back of her head. She took a breath to still her sluggish heart, and then flexed.

XxX

Elijah awakened then like he had every morning since his brother's death. He made himself coffee, which tasted of burnt insects, and took a seat in the grand windowsill facing the mountains; from there, he watched the sun rise over the Arctic Ocean, gold like the hand of God was sweeping over the horizon. He filled these moments with dark contemplation, wonderings about the world and the people in it, how they worked together and fell apart senselessly. He thought of death and blood and sadness, the bonds of brotherhood, the irresistible draw of family. Immortal beings, he'd found, were often consumed by such thought, but not inclined to intervene. Before he was wrapped in shadow, Niklaus had been that way; a kindred spirit.

His routine, oddly enough, was disrupted in the midst of his thoughts about his brother. There was another supernatural being with him in the mansion, quick enough to avoid detection until he stood in the arched doorway to Elijah's bedroom.

Elijah knew him immediately, drawing his face from an endless pool of memories. His name was Tyler, and he was one of Klaus' volatile creations. The perfect blend of werewolf and vampire, stronger than both, but still vulnerable because of his youth and inexperience. Now he seemed to be a different person, standing there as if he had nothing to fear in the presence of an Original.

"Good morning, Elijah. Awful weather we're having."

Just as Elijah rose to question his first visitor, another, more familiar face appeared behind the boy's shoulder. Kol was dressed warmly, though vampires rarely experienced changes in the weather; the style and bloodstains suggested he'd spent time ripping the throats out of European fishermen. He smelled like it, too.

"Kol… what is the meaning of this?" Elijah stood his ground. His trust for Kol had always been shaky; he knew his younger brother as an impulsive being with immeasurable potential for violence, a child who blossomed when cursed with immortality. He loved him as all brothers love their own, but his love had its limits.

His brother approached him, unafraid. "Well, it seems our brother found a way to avoid death at the hands of the Hunter; albeit, with a little assistance from the Bennett witch."

Elijah's eyes drifted from Kol to the young hybrid, his head tilting very slightly. Looking again into Tyler's confident eyes, he found the arrogance of his brother, shining like a beacon to anyone who dared look closer. His heart, which, for centuries, had beaten so sluggishly that it was nearly unperceivable, jumped against his ribs.

He stumbled toward them both, an arm extended as if to make sure they weren't part of a cruel dream. "I mourned you," he whispered brokenly. The strength of those words gripped him and he could walk no more. "Niklaus… say something. Speak to me, so I know that my eyes do not deceive me."

The young man, whose eyes shone with joyous, alien light, took a step closer and grasped Elijah's forearm. He smiled, and though it was not the crooked smile he knew of his younger brother, it warmed the air around them. "It's me, Elijah. The witch knew that letting me die meant her friends would perish. She spared me in the body of this hybrid in order to preserve my bloodline."

With those words, Klaus embraced Elijah and held him more tightly than any human could. "Let's not dwell on the broken road we've traveled, brother, but celebrate the path ahead." The hybrid pulled away and held Elijah's face in his hands, beaming. "Let us find out sister, and be one again… as it was meant to be. This is our second chance, brother; we have been given an opportunity like _no_ other."

"Forgiveness… is not as easy as you would like it to be," Elijah mumbled. "I am glad that you survived, but I cannot join you with full knowledge of what you have done in this time… to these people. We are brothers – that will never change – but we regard life very differently."

Responding to the dark look that came over the hybrid's face, Elijah's voice softened. "Our family will live on forever, for millennia beyond this one. Let time heal our wounds, so that one day, in some other place, we will live in peace."

"Wait," Kol dashed off and returned a moment later with a full bottle of whiskey. He wiggled it in front of Elijah. "Stay for a few drinks. Don't let this be our last encounter this century."

"Only a few… I have business elsewhere."

XxX

"You're gloating, Kol. It's unbecoming." Klaus crossed the room with an empty glass resting in his palm. As he filled it, he said, "What have you done to the poor girl?"

Kol laughed to himself. "I put that filthy whore in her place; you would've been proud, brother. From what I've heard, she's caused one too many a ripple in our family. I had a little fun with her, as much as the little thing could take, and then left her weeping like a child. It was pathetic."

"I would've loved to hear her screaming," Klaus murmured, though he seemed lost in thought by the time he made it to his seat. "Such a simple girl, she was, and such a pest she became. How did that happen?" his question was directed to Elijah, who had, for some time, been sitting silently by the fire. "What do you think?"

Elijah had been very fond of Katherine when he'd met her, taken by her innocence, and the sweetness in her soul. Her betrayal had been… hard to handle, but, with time, he came to understand that no amount of love could make her stay when her life was at risk. She made a decision, and that decision led to a life on the run. Elijah was unable to protect her from the curse of immortality. Because of this, he didn't approve of his brother's endless obsession with her.

"I care not for pointless ventures," he answered carefully, keeping his emotions from the conversation. "Our time with Katerina has ended, and the curse has been broken without her. I would rather leave the past behind, as you said, Niklaus."

None of them spoke after that, but Elijah felt the air grow tense. Kol was angry with his words, but he took a few swallows of whiskey to bury his thoughts. Klaus seemed lost in his own mind, though tense and unhappy. He would be thinking about Katherine, and the events that had led to his hatred for her. Elijah did nothing and said nothing, but in the time after those words and before their leaving, he made a decision that would put him on the side opposite of his family. What he'd said earlier was true – he would always love his siblings, and in some distant future, he hoped they could all live together again – but he planned on leaving Kol to his own fate, and personally seeing to Klaus' destruction.

Watching him now, wearing another person's skin, contemplating mad things that most sane beings would never consider, Elijah knew that his brother had died a long time ago. Their innocence had been lost when their father killed them; some were simply driven by it, but Klaus… he was consumed. He could not be saved, and his existence was like a plague upon the land.

He would find a way to fix the mistakes of his parents. He would take his own brother's life and, hopefully, find some peace in what remained of eternity.

XxX

Snuffing out such a life was simple. It was an action that almost every human would decide to take; some of them felt guilt, which consumed their minds like plague, and others did not, convinced that what they'd done was right, or desirable, or even normal. The paths of the mind were convoluted, leading to such ends as the paradox of a vampire Stefan Salvatore, and the true definition of a predator, Kol. Unlike the two of them, Katherine perceived life in two very different ways. She'd valued the lives of the Salvatores, and a family of witches long after she'd left Mystic Falls, but toward most she was cold and brutal. She had killed people on many different occasions, owing her coldness to the length of her life; no one meant enough to risk herself, not anymore.

Elena Gilbert was an unforeseen exception.

She stood with the kid's life in her hands, ready to snap her neck for no reason other than personal gain, and she felt _bad_ about it. She couldn't escape Elena's wide brown stare, immobilized by fear but somehow hopeful. It was as if she could see right through Katherine's actions, as if her dilemma was written on her forehead. She'd never cared before that moment, but now the burning bonds of blood seemed to be rooting themselves stubbornly in her mind.

Blood. It held them both together. Her precious daughter, seen only at a distance and through the haze of pain and confusion, had lived to have her own children. Elena had her blood, though untouched by the curse that made Katherine so dark. The longing to preserve that battled with her hatred for Klaus, her need to bring him down.

Before a real decision could be made, for the best or for the worst, an iron arm wrapped around her torso and flung her to the ground. She hit the concrete so hard that it cracked in some places, the rough pieces ripping holes in her clothes. The flesh of her chin was scraped off, and her palms were shredded.

She leapt to her feet immediately, turning and facing the Original that stood defensively in front of her descendent. Elijah's eyes were wide with anger and outrage.

"You of all people should know that this is not the solution!" he hissed. "How could you be so cold?"

Katherine curled her lip. "That's funny coming from you. If I remember correctly, you were perfectly willing to throw me under the bus for your psychotic brother. How is that any different?"

He stood straight, narrowing his eyes. "Vampirism is not the solution to everything. It worked for you, but that was a shot in the dark. It was a life that you would not have chosen, had I taken action to spare you. Don't blame Elena for that."

Bitter like a child, she sneered, "I'm not _blaming_ her for anything; I'm using her as a means to an end. I need someone as strong as me to help out with the chores. We're going to _Russia_, Elijah. Last time I checked, that was werewolf country."

He paused for a long moment. The childish anger drained from Katherine. She was prepared to reason with him, to explain her plan again if only to get out of his range. She knew that he valued life, that he wouldn't give Elena up to Klaus, but if he felt that she was in danger, he might deliver her back to the Salvatores. She couldn't let that happen.

Unexpectedly, he spoke.

"Russia, then. I know a sailor who can get us there quickly."

"I didn't invite you."

He stepped closer, but he didn't seem to be threatening her. His eyes were narrowed softly; it was an expression she knew very well, and, like always, it softened the rigid edges of her heart. She felt pain emanating from him, pain and vivid regret.

"My brother cannot be allowed to create any more hybrids. I realize now that I should've brought about his destruction when I had the chance; now I owe it to the world… I owe it to you, as well, Katerina. Let me fulfill my obligations. I will not interfere with your plans, as long as you do not harm this human._ I_ will be the strength that you require."

He stepped even close, his pupils widening. The familiar pull of compulsion weighed on Katherine's mind, forcing her to stare back at him.

"Now, tell me what you're planning."


	10. Visitor

"Damon, I _love_ you. I'm sorry. We'll see each other again, I promise… Goodbye."

He threw his entire weight against the stakes that held him there, forcing splinters into his bloodstream, prickling every nerve, gathering in his heart until the agony was almost too much to bear. His mind ran on overdrive, pushing him further, trying to get him to move just a little bit in Elena's direction. The primal side of him, the dark predator he tried to keep hidden from her, bubbled to the surface, driven by one of the only things that was stronger than blood.

"Elena?" he screamed, planting his hand in the dirt to twist his neck. The bone threatened to break, but he continued to strain. "Elena? No, don't go anywhere! Please, just get me out of here. Let us _help_ you!"

She vanished. It was so sudden that Damon's entire body went rigid, his senses probing the plantation for any traces of Elena. Her pulse was gone, her scent had vanished, and even the warmth of her presence was completely eliminated. The cold emptiness of this age-old death trap washed over him, clouding his vision and slowing his bruised heart. He called her name until he was hoarse, until the cold force over him pressed his face into the dirt. It pulled him down, holding him there like a prisoner.

But he knew this feeling. He knew the pressure on his back, the cold touch on his cheek.

No… It couldn't be…

"Mom?"

XxX

Damon was dreaming.

He was in the Salvatore Boarding House, creeping from bed at the crack of dawn and pulling his trousers on without so much as a candle to light his room. He was moving silently through the house, snagging a fresh loaf of bread from the kitchen counter and dashing outside; he could hear the birds fluttering about, anticipating his antics. He could feel the sun beating on his young, human shoulders as he ran the final stretch of grass, already tearing a large piece of bread between his fingers.

And then she was on top of him. She squished his face into the grass and put her knee gently on his back, laughing like an angel as she smiled down at him. He giggled and tried to free himself, but she was much stronger than him.

"_Mother_," he whined, tugging at her skirt. "Let me go! I wasn't doing anything bad!"

"Oh? What's this, then?" She released him and picked up the bread, turning it over in her hands. "I suppose you're the one who baked it." When he said nothing, only stared guiltily at the ground, she ruffled his curly black hair. "Be glad I was the one who caught you, and not your father, or one of the maids."

He shrugged.

She grinned and wrapped him in a hug, planting a warm kiss on his cheek. He couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. "Tell me why you took the bread," she murmured, "And perhaps I'll go easy on you."

"It's wintertime, and the birds can hardly ever find food." He took a small section of the bread and stepped away from his mother, tossing it into the grass. Six small blue birds dove on it, pecking furiously to get their share. His presence warded off the crows; they remained perched on their branches, tilting their heads and watching with beady black eyes as the food was taken.

His mother was still smiling when he walked back to her. She crouched and put her hand gently on his shoulder. "Oh, my sweet, sweet boy. I know you feel bad for the birds, but this food is for our family"

"We have plenty," he objected.

She twisted her lip in amusement. "Fine, well make a deal. You help me make the bread and I'll give you a quarter of it to feed to the birds. Does that sound fair?"

"Yes, mother."

"Good, now go wash that grass off your trousers before breakfast, and find your brother for me. We're having a very special meal this evening: Pleasant!"

"That's _not_ funny!"

XxX

Damon awakened in the same place, a sinking feeling in his belly. His mother's ghost was hovering over him for the second time, mimicking one of his warmest memories. He could hear her laughing as she walked him back to the house; he could see her warm eyes watching over his every movement, and he could feel her soft arms cradling him when a nightmare kept him awake that same night. The memories were as clear as the sun pouring down on him, as clear as the beetles skittering through his blood. She was there with him; she was _really_ with him.

"Mom," he groaned, using newfound strength to roll over. He yanked the wood from his chest one stake at a time, digging his fingers into the wound to fish out extra splinters. When it was over, he drug himself to his brother's side and began snapping the stakes that had skewered him. Laughter erupted at his efforts; he felt his mother's spirit drifting closer, making him stronger.

Finally, he yanked Stefan into a sitting position and kicked the spikes away, letting him drop safely into the dirt. He was too weak to support the younger vampire's weight.

"Seriously, mom, it's getting creepy," he said, slumping as the strength she'd given him was taken back. Her presence began fading, leaving him exhausted and drained of blood. This evil house was pressing him down again, but not in the gentle way his mother had; this time it was more like being slowly crushed beneath a steamroller, flattened until nothing but flappy skin and crushed bone remained.

The pain alone rendered him unconscious in seconds.

XxX

Stefan Salvatore stood waist-deep in cold mountain water, scrubbing the bloodstains from his skin one limb at a time; he narrowed his eyes against the bright sky, too weak to accept the warmth of sunlight. His brother was grumbling a few feet from him, his scarred leather jacket propped on bare knees. Damon tried desperately to repair it but, between the holes and the stretch marks, they both knew his efforts were fruitless.

The two of them looked like escaped prisoners, nursing their wounds as they prepared to flee for the border. Anyone who saw them would turn and run in the other direction.

"I swear, I'm _draining_ the first person I see," Damon called over, giving up on his jacket and flinging it into the forest. He retrieved his pants from the bank and dusted them off; as he was pulling them on, he scanned the trees behind Stefan. "I hope they're not greasy; the greasy ones are the worst."

Stefan rolled his eyes. His brother hadn't killed for food in a long time; these days his destructive behavior centered on spite and anger. The locals weren't in danger, so long as they weren't in the way. Besides, both of the vampires were consumed by the same problem, and it was far more powerful than bloodlust: Elena was out there somewhere risking her life because she thought she could spare them; he couldn't imagine how terrified she must've been, how cruelly her captor would treat her. He knew that Damon would have the same thing on his mind, his distrust for Katherine painting the future red.

"So, mom, huh?" Admittedly, Stefan's words came from nowhere. He didn't want to think about the love of his life being tormented, or what Klaus and his dangerous siblings might be planning; he didn't want to picture Alaric's face twisted with rage, or imagine what it may feel like to have that indestructible stake plunged into his heart. He thought it best to go in a completely different direction, one that had been but a simple curiosity since they crawled out of that vampire trap.

Damon looked up so suddenly that the local fauna shrieked in unison and fled for the trees. Several crows took off overhead, followed by a screaming mockingbird and a two fat dove. His brother's reaction was one of abrupt and puzzling nature. The dark man's eyes narrowed until the blue in them shone like twin sapphires; his voice was drained of vigor and sarcasm, taking on a dry, strained tone.

"What?"

Sinking into the water, Stefan attempted to be nonchalant about it. "You were calling out for her," he went on. "I was awake for some of it. It's like she was there, and you were… talking to her."

The older vampire shook his head, appearing mystified. "I… don't remember." He scratched the back of his head, ruffling the sand from his wet hair. Stefan had never seen this expression on his face; innocence blending with genuine upset. "You sure that's what you heard?"

"Positive."

"Well, you must've been hearing things, Stefan. I didn't say anything."

"Damon-"

"Hey, Twenty Questions, I pulled you out of that pit and I can put you back in." He backed away from the shoreline, lingering on the edge of a hiking path. Stefan saw something strange moving through his eyes; he was tipping his head up, blinking as if he was listening to something. The only sounds were the rushing of the water and the abundance of birdsong.

And then his brother turned to him, a strange look on his face. "Sorry… time to go."

He vanished.

XxX

"You know, taking a plane to Russia would be _just_ as fun as riding in a boat; I mean, hey, free peanuts, and a movie. Besides, who likes that fishy smell, anyway? And sharks. There are no sharks on planes. Plus there's a bathroom, and blankets, and teeny pillows." Elijah tried to get a word in edgewise, but Elena cut him off. "It's dry all the time up there, you know, and we'll get to Europe in half the time."

The Original waited patiently at the edge of the dock. When she finished speaking, he patted the side of the boat, flinching with it groaned under his touch. "It's perfectly safe," he responded. "I've known you to stare into the face of Death, Elena; why do you fear this, of all things?"

"You're wasting daylight reasoning with her," Katherine cut in, stalking across the deck and tipping her designer sunglasses down at both of them. She looked like a supermodel visiting a lowly orphanage, trying to pity them with the lump of coal in her chest. "Elena," she ordered, "Get in the damn boat. We don't have time for your griping."

She took a few steps away, wrapping her arms protectively over her chest. "Yeah, no, I like it over here." The thought of stepping into that wobbly, dingy little death-trap filled her stomach with butterflies; she could feel the nausea approaching.

"Come on ya big wuss, live a little."

Elena, Elijah, and Katherine whipped around, equal surprise emanating from all of them. There was nothing in her vocabulary to describe how she felt at that moment – even though she was baking in the hot sunshine on a rickety dock in the middle of nowhere, preparing to abandon her family, her friends, and her home on a quest meant to _keep them safe_, seeing one of them standing there like he'd been beside her all along brought on pure elation.

Of course, that elation died away when she realized that he was far from joyous himself.

"Miss me?" he asked dryly, cocking his head to the right. She felt the old Damon in him, the one who became destructive when he was pissed off. Her eyes ventured to either side, up and down the shoreline, to the little villa just within her view; he was alone, and angry. He stared at her with a potent mixture of rage and relief but, thankfully, neither of them was strong enough to completely cancel out the other.

"How the hell did you find us?" Katherine demanded. His eyes snapped to her as she walked toward him, a dangerous look on her face.

Damon shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I'll tell you what does matter: I'm here now, the crazy train has derailed _for good_, and Elena's coming with me." His eyes flickered to her, and then back to her fuming doppelganger. "You want Klaus dead? Kill him yourself."

They stood in uncomfortable silence for several moments before Elijah touched her arm. He cast her ever-so-slightly behind him and set his jaw, strained patience in his eyes as he faced his least favorite Salvatore. "You have two options: You may join us on our journey, or leave this place and never speak of this moment. Elena is under my protection and, regardless of what you decide, she will _remain_ under my protection."

She could see the anger burning through him, but he didn't voice it. For once, Damon kept his opinion to himself. It was two against one, and he had no chance of victory. He let out a long, heavy sigh and looked at Elena. "Wherever she goes, I go. End of story." When Elijah nodded, he spoke to her. "Here's the deal: I'm gonna help you out on your little suicide trip with Katherine, but keep that martyr crap out of your head, got it?" Elena tried to say something, anything, but he stepped closer and jabbed a finger into her face. "And don't think I forgot that you left us in that hole; I'm very, very pissed about that, so I suggest you stay on my good side."

Elijah approached, tilting his head very slightly at Damon, but addressing Katherine. "He will be an asset, should we run into trouble along the way."

She was still glaring at Damon, but she nodded her head in ascent. "If you try anything funny, I'll break your neck and let the sharks deal with you. It's best that you're not a burden, Damon. If and when Klaus shows up to rain on our parade, you get to be bait."

He seemed amused by her words, but his mood was darkening. "Alright, get in the boat." Grabbing her arm, he led her forcefully down the dock.

"Wait, where's Stefan?"

He paused, but it only lasted a moment. "He's a big boy: he can take care of himself."


End file.
